It Happened One Night
by MakeMineADouble
Summary: When Sam Evans is plucked from his popular existence in Tennessee, he decides he's going to do everything in his power to get it back in Ohio. But something's a little off, because when did Singing make you popular and Football make you, well, not? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own GLEE; I do not own any characters from GLEE; I do not own anything relating to or of FOX Network. Thank you

**Author's Note**: So, this is my first time posting in SAMCHEL. I'm not so much a GLEE fan as I once was, but I am completely in LOVE with Samchel. And I've been dabbling with a few ideas, and this one seemed to flow much easier than the other ideas. Since it's only the first chapter, there's really not much on any other character besides Sam (and the story is written in third person, with Sam as the centric character). Since this is AU, there will be a certain level of OOC, but I'll do my best to stay with-in the realms of the characters in the show. The story has nothing to do with the 1934 movie_, It Happened One Night_, in which the title of this story comes from. I just liked it and thought it sounded familiar, and low and behold, it's a movie. The story will pick up probably by chapter 3, that way there's room to introduce everyone into the story and touch up on the AU world that I've thrown them into :):) There will be cursing and eventually more mature themes. Couples will include, but not limited too: St. Berry, Fuinn, Puck/Santana, Klaine, Merc/Shane, Tike (is that their shipping name?), Bartie, Britana, Wemma... And, Of course, Samchel

**PS:** If you have a story that is similar, my apologies. I don't think I've seen a story like this, but I am a bit of a ditz. I do apologize and I promise I did not intend to "steal" any kinds of plot.

**Thank you & Happy Readings!**

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><p>Sam Evans was Montero High School's Golden Boy... Right up until his father got the job transfer to a small town in Ohio and life never seemed so unfair. Now, coming off the high of being the most popular boy in school, Sam is willing to do anything to gain back his title and make a name for himself at McKinley High School. And, ok, the football team sucks, and it's a little more difficult to spring to the top when no one knows your name. But he had always liked a challenge. However, it may be more of a challenge than he realizes when he learns the key to being popular at McKinley high school, has a little more to do with your voice then your throwing arm. And, honestly, when did Singing make you popular and Football make you, well, not? He'll be able to turn the tables in his favor... Or he's going to have to come up with a new game plan.<p>

And, totally Ps., he's not sure what it's going to take to win the Princess of the school's heart, but he's pretty sure her boyfriend is going to make his life suck.

**Awesome.**

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><p><strong>It Happened One Night<strong>

He hated the fact that his father had moved them from Declan, Tennessee to Lima, Ohio. He especially hated the fact that his father had moved them the summer before his senior year.

It _wasn't_ fair.

He was quarter back of the Montero Bulldogs. He had dated the head cheerleader, was head of the Community Leadership program, and was basically the All-American Boy next door. Everyone in the small town of Declan knew Sam Michael Evans.

And, honestly, he had really tried to find every possible way to stay in his hometown; various pleas to his friends to live with them; numerous Facebook statuses, ranging from asking for a home to declaring there was an angel in heaven whose one and only job was to fuck with him. He had even offered to live in Ms. Neely's attic and do all the lawn work for her. But there was no way around it; Sam Evans was no longer Declan's golden boy.

He was the new kid at McKinley High School, Lima, Ohio.

And, fine, their house was way bigger in Ohio then Tennessee. His room was at least twice the size and all the way in the basement, away from his parents and siblings. Speaking of the basement, it was completely off the hook. The previous owners had completely redone it, setting up a bedroom, a bathroom, and then a huge open layout which his parents deemed the game room.

It was like heaven city.

And his mother made sure to bring up his over-reaction as much as she possibly could, a smirk taking up her entire face as she did it.

It was the week before school by the time they had finally finished unpacking, and had even started settling in. Sam's father, Dwight, had a long talk with the high school and had found out that there were early football tryouts on the Saturday before school started. Dwight had patted Sam's shoulder and told him that the principle was very excited to have some fresh blood on the field.

As Sam sat on the bleachers, watching McKinley's football team practice, he wasn't really all that surprised that there was excitement for new blood. The football team was horrible.

"COME ON!" The Coach screamed at the boys, shaking her head. She was a stout woman, with a strong presence, but calm eyes. "Boys! How do you expect to win if you aren't handing the ball off properly!"

Sam watched as she threw her hands into the air, a ticking noise following her actions. His old coach was a drunk, who basically gave them free reign. This coach, Beiste, was a new experience on the basis of being sober alone.

Another ticking noise was heard and Beiste turned to look at Sam, who began smiling his 'dashing' southern smile.

"Sam Evans, right? Figgin's told me about you. Let me see?" She put her hand out. Sam gently gave her his transcript, a letter of recommendation from his old Assistant Coach, and his game sheet. "Impressive."

"Thank you." He smiled again.

"Quarterback? Well, we have Hudson. You want to go for that position?" She looked up at him. He noticed that she was finally taking him in.

"Well, yes, I led my team in Tennessee to many victories. And after watching this team practice, no offence, but—"

"Oh, no, this is not me." Beiste began shaking her head. "Like you, this is my first year at McKinley. I didn't abuse these dogs; it's just how I found them." She gave him a small smile, turning to look at the team.

Sam looked over her shoulder. He noted that the kicker was just standing in the middle of the field, doing something with his hands. Was he filing his nails? He shook his head, his dirty blonde hair mussing slightly.

"BOYS! I have a new student here, looking to try out. I run a tight ship and I do early try-outs! Reds and Blues split up! Sam Evans here is playing quarterback for the blues!" Sam watched as the team simply stared at her. "You know," she stated, so only he could hear, "I've been with them for about two weeks now and I think that they must be of the hard hearing breeds." She cleared her throat. "BOYS, HEADS ON STRAIGHT! LET'S GO!"

Sam smirked; he knew he was going to like Coach Beiste, a lot. He placed on a helmet and ran over to the blues.

He was ready to bring this pack of dogs from the allies, into the sunlit streets of victory.

* * *

><p>Sam walked into the locker room, a huge smile on his face. He felt like he had won the lottery. He took a deep breath (appreciating that there hadn't been enough time for the locker rooms to start smelling) and debated about running around or acting dignified as the new Quarterback.<p>

"Great game dude." Sam looked over to see one of the reds walk in, tossing his helmet next to a set of lockers. "Def didn't see that play coming."

"I tried. You guys really did a good job trying to under mind some of the moves I had my team doing, but, thanks." The kid smirked, leaning over.

"Puck."

"Hi." Sam shook his hand. "Was, um, Finn I think, ok?"

"Oh, he's fine." Both boys turned as the kicker walked in, looking at his nails. Following behind him was the rest of the football team. "He knew the sand in his glass was running out." Sam looked at Puck, who was rolling his eyes. "Kurt Hummel. The ex-quarterback's stepbrother."

Sam nodded, that was obviously how the petite boy had gotten onto the team.

"You just had to introduce yourself like that, didn't you?" Finn stated, pressing his helmet into Kurt's shoulder. "Great game Sam. Congratulations." He threw the blonde hair boy a small smile, before moving over to the lockers near Puck.

"Looks like we might actually be making it to a few victory parties." An Asian boy joked; clamping his hand down on Kurt's back, causing him to wince.

Kurt glared, whispering a vicious 'Mike', before moving to the other side of the locker room.

After a few more compliments from a few other players, Sam began changing into his normal clothes. He was listening to the other guys, trying to get a feel of what Wednesday was going to bring with the first day of school.

It wasn't going to be like last year, where he was king of the world, moving through the halls like a celebrity. Even though he had scored the Quarterback position, there was no grantee that he would be on radar.

"So, Sammy boy, you were Quarterback at your old school." Puck commented, slipping his shirt over his head.

"Yeah, I actually made Quarterback sophomore year, first sophomore in fifteen years to get the position. I have a knack with plays and stuff I guess." Sam shrugged.

"Were you popular at your old school?" The Asian boy, Sam assumed was Mike, asked, his eyes focusing on his locker.

"Well, yeah." Sam smirked. "I was always kind of popular. You guys know how it is."

There was a scoff, which caused Sam to look up. His eyes wandered around, stopping at Kurt, who was fully changed (in an outfit that was straight out of one of Sam's mother's fashion TV shows). Sam's green eyes left that of Kurt's brown eyes and looked over to see Finn giving his step brother a warning look, Puck looking between Sam and Kurt, and Mike's eyes averted.

Kurt shook his head as his eyes met Sam's once again. He opened his mouth, "_please_ don't tell me you joined the football team looking for popularity?"

* * *

><p><strong>Its official, this move *sucks*. <strong>

Sam pressed the enter key, leaning back into his desk chair. He closed his eyes, running his hand down his face.

It had been three hours since Kurt Hummel had informed him that to be popular at McKinley, you had to be a somebody. And there was enough proof during the practice that the football team was _definitely_ not the place where somebodies were found.

Sam vividly remembered Kurt rolling his eyes before gliding out of the locker room. He had turned to the three other boys, the only other team mates whom he knew (at least their names) begging for some kind of clarification.

Personally, he wished he had gone with his gut instinct and abided by his cardinal rule of 'ignorance is bliss'.

Apparently, and this had been explained by Mike, McKinley was known for its Arts, more specifically, its GLEE club. After a quick explanation of what a GLEE club was (basically he was reminded of his church choir), Sam was privied to the long history of championships McKinley's GLEE club had won. The gist that Sam got was McKinley was, basically, being financially supported by this GLEE club.

Declan was all about Football. And why not? They had been winning the Tennessee playoffs for years. If you were part of the football team, you were a valued player, no matter what position or how much time you actually spent on the field,

McKinley based your value on how well you sang.

Which was perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

Sam opened his eyes as he heard the door to his room open. He nodded slightly as his father walked in, a smile resting on his lips.

"Mom told me about football tryouts. Congratulations."

"New Quarterback at a school that only acknowledges the _Arts_." Sam gave his father a sarcastic smile and a thumbs up. "Yay team Sam!" He sighed, getting up to flop on his bed.

"Yeah, she may have mentioned that as well." Dwight stated, taking a seat at his son's desk. "You're an amazing football player Sam. You'll easily bring some glory to McKinley."

"The GLEE club has apparently been winning this huge competition for the past fifteen years." Sam gestured towards his computer. Dwight swiveled in the chair, rolling his eyes at the Facebook status his son had posted and then switching tabs. He read the article quickly.

"Wow, that's really something, isn't it?" He winced slightly, but smiled none the less as he turned back to face his son. "Sam, all you need to focus on is winning some games so you can bring the recruiters in. Once you get to college, none of this popularity stuff is going to matter. You're the new kid _anyway_."

"Wow dad. Inspirational speaking is not a good fallback plan for you. You need to plan accordingly from now on."

Dwight smirked. "All I'm saying is that this year is going to fly by and when the time comes around, being popular isn't going to mean anything."

Sam stared at his father, before letting out a huff and nodding his head. At least he could still tell people he was a Quarterback on a football team.

* * *

><p>Wednesday came all too soon. Sam had bonded slightly with Finn, Puck, and Mike and felt better that he would at least know a few people on his first day. He even felt a little better that he knew Kurt and Mike's girlfriend Tina, even if it was really only by name (and it Kurt's case, a detail meaning of what a Michael Kors jacket was).<p>

He had never realized how big McKinley was, but as he walked through the main hall, he instantly knew he was no longer in Tennessee. The school itself was massive, at least twice as big as Montero, his old high school. And all around the halls, well, absolute chaos.

Students were piling on each other, talking, laughing, passing notes; the hottest gossip of the summer was spreading through the air. The cheerleaders were sashaying down the halls; shooting looks to those who dared to cross their paths. Various varsity jackets could be seen peaking in, out, and between the rest of the student body.

It was a little overwhelming.

He looked down at his schedule, turning left towards his locker. He was thankful that Beiste had brought him into the school to meet the guidance counselor, Mrs. Schuester, the day prior. The lady was a little off, but really nice. And she was more than willing to show him where all his classes were and to even write down some key directions on the back of his schedule. He ignored the fact that she put on a pair of latex gloves to shake his hand (he had just been practicing and had yet to take a shower!).

Locker 345 was smack dab in the middle of the West hall way. There weren't too many students, only about a handful. He held on to the strap of his book bag, quickly spinning in his combination.

At least the inside of the locker was exactly the same as the one back in Montero.

Before he could give the metal box a full inspection, a glimmer of reflected light caught his eye. He looked over to his left, past the door to his locker.

Coming from the other end of the hall was, in no exaggeration, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He strained to keep his jaw from falling to the ground.

She was petite. Her legs were extended by the shortness of her plaid skirt. Her upper body was defined and complimented by a black turtleneck shirt, with short sleeves. She was gliding in tall black boots down the hall, oblivious to the rest of the world. Brown hair, which was pulled up into a pony tail, had big curls at the end, complimenting her chocolate eyes. He noticed another glimmer of reflected light and quickly noticed it was the light bouncing off her silver hoop earrings.

She paused at a locker a few down from his. He watched as she pulled out a notebook, a text book, and a pen, which she shoved into her ponytail. Unlike his locker, hers must have been magically filled with all her books and supplies for the year.

He took a step towards her; a need to know her name filled his whole body, running through his veins like blood.

Before he could do anything, however, a cocky looking boy seemed to materialize next to her locker. He slung his arm around her, leaning (too close for comfort in Sam's opinion) into her.

"There you are, baby. I thought we agreed to meet in the quad?" He watched as the cocky boy went to capture her lips. This simple action filled his whole body with unjustifiable anger.

The anger somewhat subsided as the girl quickly turned her head so that the boy's lips landed on her cheek.

"I assumed you were going to meet up with Caroline." Her voice, which was musical and sing-song, was filled with agitation.

"Now, now, Rachel, we talked about this." The boy smirked, moving off her shoulders and leaning against the locker next to her.

"You _slept_ with her, Jesse. Whatever we talked about, null in void." She shifted away from him, looking into her locker.

"I have to get it from somewhere, _Rachel_." Jesse hissed.

Sam's eyes widened. He looked around, noting that the handful of students that had been milling around the hall discreetly tried to pay attention to the couple.

"Oh, boo who, Jesse isn't getting sex from the ice princess, how mundane." Rachel mocked. This caused his green eyes to widen even more. This was obviously not their first fight. Nothing about what was happening in front of him seemed out of the ordinary, much less out of place. At least this was the impression he got as he once again looked around to the other students.

"Look," Jesse got close to Rachel; invading the little personal space she had left. "Don't act like I'm not the reason that you're the princess of this fuckin' school. I am the reason you're a star! You think that crack-head Shue would have paid two minutes to listen to some awkward little freshman? Don't forget your place." He slammed her locker shut, just barely missing her face.

Sam felt his fist clench. How could anyone talk to someone like that? Much less if that someone was a girl (a beautiful)! What the hell was wrong with this kid?

Jesse growled, and turned, walking in the direction Rachel had entered. Sam began shaking his head, trying to focus on Rachel, who was just staring after Jesse, a small pout sitting on her lips. Green eyes moved quickly back over to the retreating form.

"What a douchebag!"

Rachel spun, looking at Sam with surprise. He was still staring at Jesse; his arm was stretched forward, his hand gesturing after the cocky jerk. He, himself, was unsure of who he was even talking too.

"I'm sorry," her voice had gone from anger and mocking, to slightly authoritative. "Do I know you?"

Her tone was what brought Sam out of his angry thoughts. Green crashed with brown, and for a moment, Sam forgot how to talk.

"I-I, um, new, sorry, ah—" _Oh, great._ He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes. "Sam Evans, I'm new here."

Rachel stared at him. Honestly, he thought she was just going to turn around and walk away from him. He knew that look. He_ knew_ popular girls, and this girl, had to have been the most popular girl in the whole school with the look she was currently giving him.

But, then, her look changed. And Sam was once again jaw locking to keep from having to pick his chin off the floor. A smile lit up her face, making her eyes, her face, her whole person, brighten.

"Hello Sam." Her tone was replaced from authoritative to simply musical. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. You must think this school is being run as a farm barn. Not the kind of welcome to McKinley I would have wanted to give."

It took him a few seconds to catch up with what she was saying (she kind-of talked fast, like FLASH fast). He quickly shook his head, his hand running through his hair.

"No, no, it's," he chuckled, feeling like a complete ass. He was never nervous talking to girls. "I shouldn't have been eavesdropping. My apologies."

Rachel waved her hand dismissively. "It's not like we were trying to maintain privacy. Perks of having two ambitious, loud, people in a relationship." She looked over her shoulder. "Even though it's quite obvious there are a few other snags to that equation."

As Sam went to respond, the warning bell sounded across the hall. He was reminded that there were other students in the hall as they began shutting their lockers and moving towards their classes.

"Well, again, I'm sorry. I'm sure I'll see you around." She moved in the opposite direction of which she came, pausing (because stopping was not a graceful enough adjective for her in his opinion) next him. A shy smile danced across her lips. "Do you know how to get to your first period?"

"Um, yeah, it's a straight shot." He smirked.

"It was nice meeting you, Sam Evans." She gently touched his shoulder. "Rachel Berry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Same as Chapter one, I own not a damn thing

**Author's Note:** Thank you Kai and Lizzybennettdarcy for the reviews (I totally love and appreciate them!) and to everyone, the alerts and the favorites :)

This chapter is still a bit of a set-up chapter going a little more in-depth with the social hierarchy and a few tid-bits of the other characters. **I'm taking it a little slow**, with some building blocks, but it'll speed up soon. Just a little quickie: Bolded things are going to be Sam's Facebook updates/Facebook in general. Updates will just pop up randomly, but at least once every chapter. Italics is Sam's thoughts. They'll be brief and self-explanatory for the most part.

Next Chapter will def have a little taste of Jesse St. James. (He's painted really pretty badly in the story). If there are any specific couples you guys want to see (No Finchel/Puckleberry), please give me a heads up. And there will also be the introductions/appearances of the rest of Glee. :) (Not sure how fast or slow my updates may be, but I'm going to try and get the chapters out as soon as I can)

I went back and tweaked chapter one a little bit, mostly trying to fix some of the things I missed while proofing (which I'm sure there's still some things, but I tried my best and added a few minor phrases here and there). There's no need to re-read or anything, just kind of throwing it out there :)

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><p>Sam walked over to Puck's table, placing his tray down and sliding onto the bench. His eyes scanned the cafeteria, looking for a certain brown eyed beauty. After a moment and no sign of her, he frowned and began to focus on his food.<p>

"How was fourth?" Puck asked between bites of his sloppy Joe. Sam had been all too happy to find out he had third period, lunch, and seventh period with Puck. So far, he didn't really have anyone of significance (at least to him) in his classes. Puck was a breath of fresh air.

"Study hall. Same thing in every high school." He smirked, grabbing a forkful of chicken from his tray. "You always sit alone?"

"Nah. The others should be getting here soon." Puck didn't elaborate on who these others were, but Sam didn't have to wait long. Finn and Mike both slammed themselves down at the table almost seconds after Puck had answered the question. And a few minutes later, two blonde cheerleaders slid their seats, filling the small circular table.

"Sam, what's up?" Mike smiled over to him, gesturing to the two girls, both staring at Sam. "This is Brittany." The blonde with blue eyes gave a smile, going as far to wave to him. "And that's Quinn."

The second blonde seemed more of a sharp girl. Her brown eyes were studying him, calculating an opinion that would be shifted into a temporary folder for the time being. Her mouth flickered, debating if he was worth a smile or nothing at all. She settled on a very tight half smile.

Sam smiled at both of them, trying to think of something clever to say. However, the two girls began talking to each other, going back and forth with an exchange of stories and gossip. He raised an eyebrow but turned his attention to Mike and Finn, who were discussing a game plan for a Halo mission.

"Wait." Quinn stated after about twenty minutes of the girls talking about one thing and the boys (because Puck and Sam definitely put in their two sense for Halo) discussing their video game. "Is Rachel and Jesse still together?"

Sam's whole head turned to stare at Quinn who was addressing the table but looking at Brittany.

"Of course they are." Finn scoffed, rolling his eyes and popping the miniature biscuit from his tray into his mouth.

"Quinn, that is the stupidest thing you have ever asked." Puck shook his head. "On what happy planet are you on to think that Tina and Ike are not together?"

"Tina and Ike?" Sam asked, forgetting to keep his mouth shut so he could learn something more about Rachel Berry.

"That's one of their nick-names." Mike clarified. "They, how do you say—"

"They don't always get along." Quinn butted in, giving a look to Mike.

Sam wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but McKinley was very, very different (in SO many ways) to Montero. It was straight up depressing.

"You must know who Rachel Berry is by now," Quinn commented, placing her chin in her hand, looking at Sam. "It's already fifth period."

"Quinn." Puck groaned. Sam eyed his new friend, but shook his head at the blonde cheerleader.

"Her locker is right by mine, maybe like five or six away. I met her this morning." He made a face. "Well, I mean, I witnessed as her douche head boyfriend slammed her locker in front of her face." He growled softly, almost silently, but not quite.

"Why did he slam her locker?" It was Brittany who spoke up. Sam noticed that no one at the table seemed to flinch at the morning events.

"They were fighting." He knew he was entering dangerous territory. Gossip was _not_ his thing. Unless he was involved with whatever was going on and needed to settle something that was being said, he made sure to never fuel anything.

"What were they fighting about?" Quinn inched further onto the table, trying to close the distance between them. As if the less space between her and Sam would give her the advantage of being privied to information.

"I don't know, I really don't like to eavesdrop." Sam could feel the tips of his ears turn red, a sign he was lying. It was the only thing that could give him away.

Quinn sighed, leaning back away from him. "It doesn't matter. He didn't catch her face, did he?"

Sam shook his head. He was almost sure he had heard a thread of concern in Quinn's voice, but he was not going to over analyze it.

"That prick." Puck rolled his eyes, pushing his tray to the middle of the table. "She's too good for him."

"You're just mad that she's the only one you haven't been able to win over." Mike mumbled, looking at his apple with intrigue.

"Shut up, Chang." Puck mumbled back, elbowing his friend.

Sam was so confused. This is exactly why he needed to befriend some popular people. They just _knew_ shit. And they knew how to talk about it clearly as well.

Finn cleared his throat, turning his body towards Sam.

"Rachel Berry is the school's princess. She's been in the Social hierarchy since freshman year, when Jesse St. Jackass _discovered_ her. His older sister was in Glee and they've been social royalty since _she_ was a freshman. Rachel has one Nationals for the GLEE club, singlehandedly, for three years."

Sam was even more confused than before. "And?"

"Unless you're St. Jackass or one of the Supremes, you don't go near Rachel." Quinn stated, her eyes watching Sam. "This school is all about who has talent, how they use their talent, and how much they're willing to sell it for. No one crosses _anyone_ in Glee without there being consequences."

"It's probably like the football team and cheerleaders at your old school." Mike offered. "You know, without the implications of the _Mafia_." He looked over to Quinn, who rolled her eyes and huffed.

"That's, like, wow." Sam made a face. "So, you guys aren't popular at all."

"Oh, we're all popular in our own ways." Quinn sat straighter. "Brittany and I are cheerleaders, we bring in enough funds and have won our fair share of competitions. Puck's slept with three-fourths of the senior and junior class. And we're all in Glee."

"All of you are in Glee?" Sam looked around the table.

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration. Quinn sings in the very back of any performance, Brittany and Mike dance, I've been allowed to fill in for Jo-Jo the guitar guy in the band, and Finn, well, Finn was politely asked to leave the choir room." Puck smirked at this tall, gangly friend.

Sam stared at Puck for a long time before closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and letting out a deep sigh.

* * *

><p>He had his head in his hand, staring at Puck who was sitting behind him. They were in English, waiting for the bell to ring.<p>

Puck had chosen the seats, the far left of the room, next to the windows, and about mid-way from the back. Mike was sitting next to Puck, staring blankly as the brunette tried to explain a play for their football practice that he had come up with.

A flicker of light caught Sam's attention. His head flew to the door, green crashing with brown royally.

"Oh, look who is gracing us in our English class." Rachel rolled her eyes at Puck, taking a seat next to him.

"Hello to you too Noah, Mike," Sam felt his heartbeat quicken as she glanced at him, shooting him a small smile. His quicken heartbeat seemed to stop suddenly when she turned to look at the boy in the seat to her right.

Was that Kurt?

"Kurt, have you met Sam Evans?" Rachel turned back to Sam, giving him an encouraging smile that he has was all too happy to return.

Kurt leaned forward to look at Sam, giving him a guarded smile. A smile that Sam was unfamiliar with because the boy had been nothing but chipper and attentive during football practice.

"That's the new Quarterback I told you about." Kurt stated simply, moving back comfortably in his seat.

"Oh, right," Rachel nodded. "You never gave me a name. I always remember names."

Kurt rolled his eyes, leaning towards Rachel and whispering something into her ear. Rachel giggled once Kurt had moved away.

Sam was completely awestruck by her.

"So, Mimi Doupoy was banging on about a fight you and St. Jackass had at your locker this morning." Puck threw out, eyeing Rachel with an amused expression.

The brunette rolled her eyes, a look forming over her face. "Mimi Doupoy loves to rattle on and on about things she knows nothing about."

"I heard it was pretty heated." Puck continued.

"I think you're just having a boring first day of classes."

Kurt, who had shifted to look around the class, was now focusing on Puck and Rachel. Mike was doing his best not to smile or laugh, possibly to some kind of inside joke that he and Puck had formulated on the information Sam had given them at lunch.

"How do you know Sam, Rach?" Puck stated, leaning into the desk.

"I met him this morning, at our lockers." Sam mentally groaned. She fell right into Puck's trap. The girl may have been popular, but it was quite obvious how naïve she actually was.

"Sammy boy! You can fill us in on what really happened this morning then."

The blonde haired boy turned his head slowly, giving Puck a very loud look. Puck didn't seem fazed in any way.

Green eyes found brown eyes. He was sure that he saw a hint of pleading in the chocolate orbs. But the hint had been so fleeting, he doubted himself.

"Sorry Puckerman." Sam shrugged, his eyes holding Rachel's. "I got to my locker early, I only met Rachel for a second before heading off to find my class."

He broke the eye contact, turning to Puck, expecting to see an angry expression on his friend's face. There was no such thing, however, only a very wide smirk that seemed to be taking over Puck's face.

Sam blinked, unsure of what to make of this detail.

The bell rang loudly, causing a shift in the room as the students all turned forward. Being that he couldn't see any of the people behind him, his brain quickly ran over the last few minutes. Something clicked into place and Sam closed his eyes.

_Fuck_. He had played right into Puck's hands.

* * *

><p>"You're so stupid."<p>

How Sam loved walking into the house to the sound of the twins bickering in the kitchen.

"Why is he stupid?" He asked his sister as he moved towards the fridge.

"Stevie got into a fight, on his first day of school." Stacy Evans tattled, sticking her tongue out at her other brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, moving around to grab a glass. His brother and sister were only eleven, but the personalities between them, it could rival any Super Nanny/Nanny 911 crap any day of the week. The two would have any one of those women running from the house in tears

"Sam, how was your first day of school?" He looked over at his mother. Her hair was damp and she was wearing a nice dress.

"It was," _informative, depressing, unfair_. "Ok."

"Did everything go well with finding your classes and football?" Sam nodded, grabbing his favorite chips from the top of the cabinet. "Are there lots of pretty girls?"

This was not what his mother was asking him. She was asking him if he had seen anyone that sparked something in him more than a shrug and an 'eh'. Not that she ever approved of any girl he had ever brought home.

"Well," he smacked his lips shut, looking at Stacy and Stevie. His mother, Mary, tsked, but ushered her younger children out of the kitchen to watch TV. "I hate talking around them."

"They're eleven." Mary argued, moving to put the tea kettle on the stove.

"I met the star of the Glee Club." He cleared his throat, standing near the door.

"Oh? The same Glee club that has you all up in arms because you can't be Mr. Popularity." She gave him a smirk, clearly teasing him.

"You're another one." He groaned. She chuckled and rolled her wrist, silently demanding he get to where he was going with this. "She's super pretty. Apparently the most popular girl in the school."

"That's nice." She continued moving around the kitchen, busying herself. "What's her name?"

"Rachel." He couldn't help the goofy smile that crossed his lips.

"She's a senior?"

"Yep."

"She seemed nice?"

"Yeah, a little stand offish."

"A boyfriend?"

"...Yeah."

"Well then," Mary stopped, looking over to her oldest. "Seems like you had a very interesting day." He stared at her for a hard moment, before popping his lips and nodding. "Be gone, my child, dinner will be ready in about an hour."

Sam returned her smile and turned around, heading towards the basement. He grabbed the stereo remote he left on the top stair, turning the system on so he could be distracted by The Wanted. Sure, it wasn't the typical band that he _should_ like, but there was a nice beat to their music.

He threw his supplies on to the couch, popping into his bedroom to grab his laptop.

**First day of school, totally nailed it… I'm just getting started though!**

He clicked the enter button, settling comfortably into the couch. After a quick glimpse of Facebook, he jumped into simply perusing the internet.

A chime entered his head and a few clicks led him to the source.

**Rachel Berry wants to add you as a friend.**

The smile that appeared over his face was so large it began hurting his cheeks. He clicked accept and sighed, pushing himself further into the couch.

There was no going back now. He was turning on that ol' southern charm of his and saving the princess from the evil dragon.

Seriously, if he could get Link to save Zelda every time, against _real _monsters. Jesse St. Jackass didn't have a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Own: Nada.

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry. Last week was A LOT more hectic then I thought it would be, I was hoping to have this chapter out earlier, because the beginning of this week is going to be just as hectic. And why would it not be? Honestly. I will try to update at least once a week, hopefully my schedule will allow for multiple updates!

ANYWAY, the story line is still slow, but next chapter is going to speed up the story, and get some Sam/Rachel moments. Especially with some school events coming up ;). So, we're getting somewhere, we're just doing a little sightseeing, next chapter, we'll get off the slow road and move on to the highway!

Thank You SO MUCH for the reviews! I completely LOVE them! **MyTrainDance27**—I love "Glad you came" it's my anthem! And we can def be best friends! **lizzybennettdarcy**—One of the few games I have a handle on with the concept, :):)**samasbananas** and** kia**—Thank you! And I appreciate everyone who took time to read the story, as well as those who alerted and favorited it!

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><p>Sam Evans has updated his Facebook Status:<p>

**One step forward… a mile back!**

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><p>Thursday and Friday seemed to pass with barely any kind of warning. It was a little hard to believe he was walking to his locker after eighth period, towards two days of freedom.<p>

Puck had been harassing him every chance the bad-ass got about Rachel. And, speaking of _that_ girl, Sam hadn't spoken to her since their English class on Wednesday. It was almost as if she was avoiding him (because he was obviously so important in her life after the one day of meeting him). In English Kurt had switched their seats to the other side of the room and she was _never_ at her locker. But, why would she be? He liked her, so of course she was going to completely fall off the face of the planet.

His mother was right. He was a drama-queen.

Shaking his head, he glanced around the hall, inwardly pouting that there was no sign of the brunette beauty.

"Hey Evans." There was a melody to the voice and Sam flashed a smile over his shoulder to the black haired girl.

"Hey Mercedes, what's up?"

The girl moved around, leaning against the lockers that were in between his and Rachel's. Her black hair was down; a white cap tilted on her head. She folded her arms, staring down the hallway.

"Waiting on the Diva to get here. We're going shopping with Kurt."

"That's fun." Sam gave her a small smile, trying to figure out what needed to stay at school and what needed to come home for the weekend.

Mercedes had befriended him on Thursday (upon hearing his name dropped so much by Kurt and Rachel). She was in his third period, as well as lunch. Even though during lunch she usually sat outside or to the very corner of the cafeteria. He knew not to push for any kind of information concerning basically anything, at least not yet. For the most part, she did all of the talking.

And, ok, honestly he thought Puck and Mike and everyone else was pulling his leg. A choir club being popular? Come on. But he noticed as he walked down the hall with Mercedes, she was top shelf. Girls were giving her looks of envy (and admiration). Guys were throwing her winks and smirks. The best part, was that she completely bulldozed over them, barely acknowledging their presence.

Oh, Rachel and Mercedes weren't just _popular_, as far as they were concerned, they were freakin' celebrities.

And it showed in their every look, move, and word.

"I really hope that Jesse isn't keeping her." She huffed. Sam shut his locker. "She's driving."

"Yeah, I haven't actually had the pleasure of meeting Jesse yet. Formally that is."

"Consider yourself lucky." Mercedes mumbled.

Sam raised an eyebrow, but refused comment. He leaned on his locker, looking the girl over. "So, this Glee Club? Is it easy to get in?"

It was Mercedes' turn to raise an eyebrow. "I thought you just wanted to play football?"

"I'm just asking. Seems the only thing worth talking about at McKinley is Glee, so," he shrugged. She smirked, shaking her head.

As she looked back over to him, her eyes hardened slightly. "It's a bit of a process, but nothing too horrible." The tone of her voice became guarded, catching Sam slightly off guard.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, Mercedes, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." Sam spun around, coming face to face with Jesse St. James. "And who is this? Another gentleman caller? What would Shane say?" Jesse smiled.

"This is Sam Evans—"

"The new Quarterback!" Jesse exclaimed, cutting Mercedes off. "Congratulations. I was never one for sports, myself."

"That's ok," Sam smirked, "I was never into singing."

"We all have our crosses to bear." Jesse nodded, looking past Sam and past Mercedes. "Where's my girl?"

"We were waiting for her. I assumed she was with you." Mercedes' tone was so different when talking to Jesse, Sam had to turn his head and make sure it was still her.

"She's probably holding Schuester up. That girl and all her big ideas." Jesse rolled his eyes, before focusing on Sam again. "So, Tennessee, right? I haven't been. I did go to Montana, they're neighbors."

"Uh, yeah, sort of." Sam nodded. "I was born and raised in Declan, it's mid-state."

"This must be a bit of a change for you. It gets pretty chilly in winter. And Canada is, like, right there." Was this kid for real?

Sam continued to nod, glancing at Mercedes who looked as if she would rather be anywhere but near the two of them.

"How long have you and Rachel been going out for?" Sam asked, folding his arms. This was just typical guy talk. No big deal.

"Bout three years. She's definitely something." Jesse smiled brightly at Sam, while reaching into his pocket. "Oh, I need to take this. Cedes, tell Rachel to call me later."

One minute he was here, and the next he was gone.

Again, douchebag.

Sam shook his head, turning his body so he was facing Mercedes. She was still watching Jesse as he disappeared down the hall.

"That would be the girl he's sleeping with this week. I think Caroline Nathan, but who can keep up."

"What?" He really needed to learn the way everyone talked in this state. Or at least learn to keep up with the drama.

"Oh, please, you've been a part of the football team for a week now, and it's been three days of school. You're well aware that boy cheats on Rachel. It's prime time television at this school." The look on her face screamed of agitation. Whether it was at him or Jesse was at her discretion.

"I—" Sam stopped. _Technically_ he knew Jesse had cheated, due to the fight on the first day of school. He also knew that Rachel and Jesse didn't exactly have some fairy tale of a relationship.

"He's only dating her so no one else will. It's ridiculous. He doesn't even like her like that anymore. He just can't stand the thought of anyone taking away his _nightingale_. He makes me so mad. I just want to bitch slap him to kingdom come."

"Why does she date him then?"

"Because he's a sneaky little bastard." Mercedes growled. "It has to be some kind of abusive, battered wife bullshit. Because all he has to do is apologize and all is forgiven. He buys her stuff all the time. Her parents love him. _Adore _him. Sometimes, if you're really tired or you have a lapse in memory, you think they're the perfect couple. They have the performance down to a 'T'. Hands down, _best_ show on television. But behind the scenes, it's a mess." She looked at Sam. "I have no idea why I'm telling you any of this."

"Because you're mad, and you wanted to vent, and I'm here." He shrugged. "People tell me shit all the time. I guess I just have one of those kinds of faces."

She sighed. "Just don't go saying anything. I'm sorry for unloading. I just get pissed. He doesn't even have the decency to hide it."

"Hide what?" Both Sam and Mercedes jumped at the musical voice.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mercedes eyes narrowed, ignoring the question that had been asked. "Why the hell did you keep _me_ waiting?"

_Celebrities_. Worse. Celebrities with _complexes_.

Rachel smiled, rolling her eyes playfully. "I'm sorry. Santana wanted to show me a song she had in mind for pep rally on Friday."

"Aren't pep rallies usually on the big games' days?"

"Oh, Evans." Mercedes pouted. "You're so new."

"We do them the week before big games." Rachel gave him a bright smile. He couldn't help but hear his heartbeat in his ears. "I never got to thank you for what you did for me on Wednesday."

"What he do?" Mercedes voiced, only to get a dismissal wave from Rachel. "No you didn't."

"I'll tell you on our way to Kurt's, which we need to get going."

"You two have fun. And, it wasn't a problem, really." He gave her his prized smile, mentally high fiving himself as a pink blush filled her cheeks.

"See you later Evans." Mercedes smiled, her eyes glimmering as she watched Rachel.

"Bye." Rachel squeaked, turning around quickly. Mercedes followed her, throwing another smile to Sam over her shoulder.

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><p>Sam was sweaty, tired, and just ready to throw himself in the shower and then crash somewhere. Beiste had the team doing drills and laps all morning. He was pretty sure that she didn't even bother bringing a football out into the field.<p>

He made this way down the stairs of the basement, stopping as he stared at his sister and two other girls her age sitting on the couch with green crap, or something, on their faces.

Seriously?

"Oh, hey, Stevie took over the living room to play Mario Kart, so Leah, Courtney, and me are watching _Clueless_ and doing face masks." Stacy shot him a smile. She looked like an alien.

"You're eleven. Why would you need to do a face masks?"

"It helps keep our faces clean!" The little girl with black hair and a chipper voice answered him. She looked familiar (well, as familiar as she could with gook on her face).

He stared at them for a hard moment before sighing and continuing on his way to his room and ultimately the bathroom.

He was thankful that he was going to college soon, these girlie rituals were only bound to get worse.

Slipping from his room to the bathroom with his robe, he made sure the door was locked, and then quickly turned the water on to heat up.

Sam loved showers. It was his favorite time of day. They were relaxing, refreshing, cleansing, and the water always gave him time to think.

He looked in the mirror, waiting for steam to start filling the small room. Honestly, he really didn't think he was any less attractive than any of the other guys. He knew he was better looking than Jesse. And it's not like he was the cutest guy at Montero, but he got a lot of attention from girls.

Ok, so, Quinn had let it slip at lunch that quite a few Cheerios thought he was hot. Finn had rolled his eyes and told him while they were in the locker room that Kurt thought he was cute, which was why the fashionista had been acting a little jumpy around him. Mercedes had said he was alright, but that his "pale ass needed some sunlight".

He shook his head. The problem was that Rachel was not swooning over him. Not that he thought she should be! Just, that, he wish she would.

The water instantly eased his mind. He ran over the conversation Mercedes and he had, after Jesse had left.

Why stay with someone that cheated on you? Sam had personally never been cheated or had cheated on anyone. He had a friend that was a bit of a womanizer (much like Puck, or what Puck liked to reference himself as) but it couldn't be considered cheating, there was no actual relationships.

His best friend Dina (also his ex-girlfriend and the person he lost his virginity to at the delicate age of fifteen) had been cheated on the summer before Junior year. She had dumped the guy almost instantly though. She would have never stayed with him.

And why was no one _doing_ anything? Mercedes and Kurt were Rachel's best friends, they didn't seem to involve themselves. Puck and Finn apparently use to be friends with Rachel way back in the day (or so Mike told him in Spanish class on Friday), they surely weren't beating anyone down. Hell, the girl was the princess of the school and the student body just allowed her to reign with a falsified prince.

It was fuckin' ridiculous!

He was the most popular boy at Montero. Dina was basically the Queen Bee (it had been devastating to the social hierarchy that they were not dating). But, you could be damn sure that if Sam and Dina had been dating, the student body would not have allowed such fuckery to happen behind the scenes.

If _anything_, cheating would have been social suicide.

Then again, he was not at Montero, he was at McKinley. And, whereas Montero had about eight-hundred kids in the entire high school, McKinley had about six-hundred kids per grade level. Roughly translated, about two thousand and four hundred students, most of whom probably didn't even care if the most popular boy in school was cheating on the princess.

Because what _was_ primetime television if not for some kind of drama happening.

Sam turned the water off and stood in the stall for an extra second, breathing in the steam and the heat. He shook his head and stepped out, grabbing his robe and a towel to dry his hair. His eyes darted to the mirror, seeing nothing but a blurred image.

Slowly opening the door, he popped his head out to look into the main area. He threw the door open once he realized the three girls were gone and walked into his bedroom.

Originally, he had wanted to crash, maybe nap or diddle around on the computer. Now, however, he wanted to get some air, blast his music, and turn off the thoughts in his head.

He threw on a pair of jeans and a thin hoodie, not even bothering with an undershirt. Grabbing his keys and earphones for his iPhone, he rushed out of his room, skipping steps to get upstairs.

"I'm going for a walk!" He shouted as he made his way to the front door.

"Don't get lost!" He paused, looking over his shoulder in the direction of his mother's voice.

Was she for real?

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><p>He <em>wasn't<em> lost. He had only walked a few blocks. So, he was definitely _not _lost. He just wasn't really sure where he was.

His hands were shoved into his pockets and the melody of The Killers were echoing in his ears. He had stumbled on to what he would now refer to as 'the rich part of Lima'. The houses were huge and delicate. It's not like his house was small or anything, but these places were legit bigger.

He had been wandering through rich Lima for the better part of ten minutes. There were three car driveways, balconies, gated verandas in the front of some houses. He wondered if celebrities secretly bought these houses to get away from the paparazzi.

A white Prius caught his eyes, making him freeze mid-stride. There was a decal on the back of the car, a line of notes from a music sheet. It was on the back of the window, barely grazing the hood of the car (his friend, Tripper, would have called it the car's tramp stamp). He knew this car. He had stored this car in his mind on Wednesday, after football practice when Puck had pointed it out as Rachel's car.

The notes were simple enough. He hadn't had time to get a good look at them in the parking lot, but now he could try and get an idea of the song. Maybe get a peek into Rachel's head through her car.

Wow, he was really turning into a pansy over this girl. He had to be grateful that no one he knew in Montero could see him now. They would be making fun of him, with no tomorrow in sight.

"Are you selling something?" Sam turned, not fully registering anything other than a voice.

A man, slightly taller than him, stood on the lawn of the house. He was wearing faded jeans that had dirt coating the knees. He was wearing a thin, long sleeve shirt, with a pair of thick gardening gloves, with thick rimmed glasses on his face. He looked somewhat awkward as a person, but his eyes were stealth, almost scary.

"What?" Sam blurted out.

"Are you selling something? You've been standing there for a while, son."

"No, I'm, so, um—" Wow. "I'm sorry, sir. My name is Sam Evans, my family moved in on Baker street about a month ago," he pointed in the direction he had come from. "I was taking a walk to familiarize myself with the neighborhood and I noticed this car. You see my friend she, this is her car, and I was trying to get the melody of the decal. I seem to be having some trouble though."

He was raised to tell the truth, especially to an adult (who may or may not call the police on him for trespassing).

The man looked at Sam and then to the car in the driveway. A smile seemed to flick across his lips.

"You're friends with Rachel?" Sam nodded slowly. The man began nodding his head, the smile widening. He took off his gardening gloves and held a hand out. "Hiram Berry, nice to meet you."

"Hello Mr. Berry." Sam said, shaking Hiram's hand.

"So, did you join Glee?" Hiram folded his arms, his stance relaxing dramatically.

"No, sir. My locker is near Rachel's and we have English together. I'm on the football team. Actually, I'm the new quarterback." Hiram smile seemed to double. Which, honestly, made Sam feel a rush of pride.

"My husband and I go to every game, to cheer on Kurt and the other boys, we've known most of them all their lives. So, you already have two new fans to cheer you on."

"Thank you sir."

"Of course." Hiram gave him a nod. "Sam, you said? Yes, I do believe I heard my little Rachel mention you." Sam felt his cheeks heat up. Hiram seemed to notice the flush as well. The man's smile was now readying to jump off his face. "Yes, she was talking about the pep rally and the new quarterback. I'm sorry, she was talking to her friends, I didn't catch your name in my eavesdropping. My husband's better at it, to tell you the truth."

"Yeah, my mom is the eavesdropper in the family. My dad is a bit of a space cadet." Sam felt calmer as Hiram let out a boisterous laugh.

"I must say your father and I have that in common, at least when it comes to matters such as this." He looked at his watch and then towards the house. "We'll have to stop by and bring over a welcoming basket for your family. We're terrible at keeping up, but Leroy and I always enjoy meeting our neighbors."

"I'm sure my parents would love to meet you, our block seems to be a bit stuffy." Sam didn't recall one neighbor coming over from the neighboring houses. As a matter of fact, the only neighbors he remembered were the Abrams, and they lived a few blocks away. Possibly from this neighborhood.

"Backer street is a bit stuffy, here on Lockwood Boulevard, we make sure to be welcoming." Sam gave him a smile. "I need to get back to gardening, but would you like me to tell Rachel you stopped by?"

"No! No! That's ok!" Sam didn't realize how pitchy or loud he had gotten until he had stopped talking and Hiram's eyes widened. "No, I mean, I'm sorry. I just," he took a breath. "I didn't know Rachel lived here, so I don't want her to get uncomfortable or anything, I was just walking and," he pointed lamely towards her car.

"Yes, you were trying to get the melody. Of course. I'm sure we'll be seeing you around Sam. And if you ever get thirsty or hungry on your walks, please stop by." Hiram gave him a warm smile, which Sam quickly returned, before spinning around to find his way home. "Oh, and Sam?" Green eyes found teasing brown eyes (much like his mother's eyes when she realized something that he didn't want her to know about). "All you need is love."

Sam stared at the smirking man as he began to whistle the tune, walking around to the side gate. Green eyes followed for a moment, before swinging over to the white Prius, specifically the Prius' 'tramp stamp'.

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><p>Sundays were Sam's favorite days. He could sleep until whenever; no school, no practice, no responsibilities. It was well into the afternoon when he had finally gotten himself out of his bed. He wandered upstairs, noting the silence, and quickly poured himself an overly large bowl of Captain Crunch cereal.<p>

"Where is everybody?" He asked in the direction of the living room.

"Your mother and Stacy went, somewhere. And Stevie went to the park with one of his little friends." His dad's voice filled the space between the kitchen and the living room.

Sam rolled his eyes. His father seriously never knew where or what everyone was doing. He grabbed his bowl, walking across the hall to the living room.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Dwight turned a page of his newspaper. "Sure."

"You weren't cool or anything in college." Dwight lowered his paper, staring at his son over the top. "How did you get mom to notice you? She was a cheerleader and on student council. And you were like a no one."

He knew there was a better way to bring this up to his father. He had, however, inherited his mother's bluntness, but had yet to learn her ability to manage it.

"I think the term 'a no one' is a bit much." Dwight stated.

"Mom said you were some geek that always had his nose in a book. I thought she didn't learn your name until, like, junior year?"

Dwight's stare seemed to become slightly more hostile. He sighed, folding his paper.

"Is this about the girl, who is popular because she sings, and she has a boyfriend, but he's a jerk, and she avoids you?" Sure, he doesn't know where his wife and children are, but can recall general details about Rachel.

Sam huffed slightly. "It's just, I like her."

"You've known her for less than a week." Dwight's voice was mono-toned.

"You stalked mom for three years before she knew your name. Rachel at least knows my name." Sam glared at his father.

"You act like you're twelve. Your mother promised you would eventually grow up." Dwight stated, his tone more playful than anything else

"I just, I haven't really liked a girl like this, not since Dina in freshman year. And even then, me liking Dina had been a growing friendship, thing. This was instant!" In retrospect, Sam would come to terms that he was basically twelve, especially concerning this matter. He had no regrets though.

"Well, I instantly liked your mother too. She was the prettiest girl on campus." Dwight began talking about the day he saw Mary.

It was Sam's turn to stare at his father. He should have just waited for his mother to come home. She didn't dilly-dally on every single detail leading up to the punch line.

After about ten minutes, Sam realized his father was just barely into their sophomore year. He put his hands up, waving them wildly.

"Dad, you and mom didn't talk until Junior year. Rachel and I do not have three years. I can maybe only stalk her for another few weeks before it becomes pathetic. I'm going to need you to jump the timeline. Please."

"You are so much like your mother, it's not even funny." Dwight commented. He sighed, propping his elbows on the arms of his lazy-boy chair, his hands going under his chin. "It was the beginning of our Junior year. I knew your mother liked tennis, because her best friend was in my management class. So, I bought two tickets to a tennis game being held in a few towns over and invited her. For the next few months, I made sure to pay attention to the little details, like what flower she liked, her favorite color, that way I could give her little things she enjoyed. And by mid-spring semester, we were officially dating."

"So, you did everything she wanted to do." Sam nodded his head.

"Well, sort of. Your mother was a smart gal, she figured out that I was always doing things for her, so she turned the tables a few times and surprised me. That's how I knew she wasn't just some girl. My gut had been right. I never had to be someone I wasn't."

"Ok, thanks." Sam gave his father a smile. "I'm just, trying to get my head on correctly."

"Just don't throw yourself into too many things, Sam. Be yourself and if the girl likes you, it'll be great." Dwight raised a finger. "And do _not_ get into a fight with the boyfriend."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine." He popped up from the couch and walked back into the kitchen.

"That was sweet." Dwight looked towards the doorway, leading towards the back of the house, where Mary was currently standing.

"How much did you hear?"

"Starting from when you bought the tennis tickets to our first date." She walked into the living room, leaning down and kissing him. "Very sweet." She began heading towards the kitchen, pausing, she shifted back to look at him. "A little Mr. Rogers though, work on that." With one last bright smile, she disappeared into the hall.

Dwight narrowed his eyes and shook his head. He picked up his paper, jolting it back to its original position. He began mumbling about his wife and son, and their obvious similarities.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Songs (That I DO NOT own): Let's Play- Kristina Maria; Your Love is a Drug- Leighton Meester; Music Sounds Better With You- BTR;

Author's Note: So, yeah, remember I said a busy week. It was excoriating. And between me wanting to beat down everyone, it was just bad. I have most of Chapter 5 written, it's a bit angsty, so I might change it, but I hope to have it out before the end of the week. Thank you to EVERYONE who read and alerted and favorited! lizzybennettdarcy you are truly amazing :):) I don't really know what I was writing in this chapter. But there's a bit more background and some amusing moments in my opinion. Happy Readings! Enjoy!

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><p>Quinn Fabray has written on Sam Evan's wall:<p>

**Hope you're ready for your first Pep Rally! ;)**

Four people Like this

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><p>Sam sat on Finn's couch Thursday afternoon, staring blankly at the novel he had to read for English and his notebook which had several questions that needed to be answered from said novel. So far, out of the fifteen questions, Sam had answered two.<p>

Finn, Puck, and Sam had decided to do a "study" session after practice. It seemed that Monday morning had brought on a whole new attitude from the teachers, which had prompted them to start dumping work and homework on the student body. It was safe to say that the three boys were barely staying above water, just shy of a full week into the school year.

"Dude, Mrs. Kempner is ridiculous." Puck tossed his Math book down to the floor. "When the hell am I going to need this shit?"

Finn, who had given up even attempting to do work, scoffed from the floor. He was sitting against the coffee table, playing Mario Kart.

"Did you read any of _The Great Gatsby_?" Sam asked, looking between the book and his notebook.

"Pf." Puck rolled his eyes. "I haven't read a book in years."

"It's true. He usually ends up burning one of our copies." Finn added from the floor.

Sam looked at the tall boy before glancing at Puck. He cleared his throat, shifted slightly away from the mohawked teen, and began trying to concentrate on the novel.

"You should ask Rachel to tutor you. She's good at this shit." Puck's tone caused Sam to look up at him. There was a large, Cheshire smile on Puck's face. Sam could see from the corner of his eye that Finn had twisted himself to look at them. "I bet you and her could come to some agreement for payment."

"Puck." Finn's voice was saturated in warning.

"Oh, come on, our dear friend Evans here, has a thing for the _princess_. And since he's like royalty from a different school, it'll be an even match." Puck's smirk was brightening the entire room.

"Dude, just hit him." Sam looked at Finn. The taller boy was sending Puck a very loud look.

"Puck, honestly, I don't know what you're talking about. I told you I didn't like Rachel like that." Sam shook his head, looking down at his book.

"Yeah, ok. Finn, this kid stares at Rachel all through English." Puck's eyes hung over Sam, amusement dancing in them. "And he looks like he wants to hit someone if St. Jackass gets brought up. I mean, I get it; Rachel's a hot piece of ass. Most guys usually fall over themselves for her about three seconds after meeting her." Unraveling green eyes caught humored brown eyes. "Wasn't always like that, right Finny? Rach use to be a hot mess. A _hot_ mess. Animal sweaters, argyle socks that went to her knees, penny loafers." Puck whistled. "Fashion fucking tragedy. Jesse's sister took care of that real fast though. Made Rachel the second hottest thing to walk through those halls."

Sam was staring at Puck. Finn had shut off the game and turned completely around to stare at Puck with a touch of disappointment. Puck was still smirking, but it had become slightly alarming, like a madman laughing at the rain.

"You know—"

"We were best friends." Finn cut Puck off. "Rachel, Puck, Quinn, Kurt, and me. We had been friends since second and third grade. Mike didn't come into play until around eighth grade, and Mercedes, Kurt and Rachel's friend, was after they had joined Glee." He had looked away from Puck, directing his attention to Sam. "Puck had a crush on Rachel when we were in sixth grade, and Rachel and I had gone to all the school dances together in seventh. We were known as the Brady Bunch for most of middle school. High school changed everything. When Rachel got into Glee, Jesse and Lillianna seemed to transform our best friend into a socialite or something. By the end of freshman year, she rarely talked to us. The only reason Kurt acknowledges me, is because our parents dated seventh through ninth, and got married the summer before tenth." He crossed his arms, leaning on the coffee table. "You're the first one, in the group, to admit to liking Rachel. That is why _Puck_ is acting like an asshole."

Sam's eyes were wide like saucers. Puck shook his head, folding his arms like a tantruming preschooler.

"A little History 101." He mumbled, sending hateful little looks at Finn.

"I told you to leave him alone about it." Finn stated, somewhat sing-songedly.

Honestly, it was as if they were married or something.

"I was just messing with him." Puck was out right sulking at this point.

"Why did they change her?" Sam took the opportunity to interrupt whatever was happening between the two best friends.

Both boys looked at him, it was as if they forgot he was in the room. Puck was the first to recover from his memory lapse, rolling his eyes.

"I told you. She was a _hot_ mess. I don't know if it's because she didn't have a mom or if she didn't want to be like Quinn, who I might add is a total spoiled brat. Rach was always cute, but definitely awkward."

The Rachel that Sam knew, was not awkward. She walked the halls with confidence and grace dripping from her. He wasn't into fashion, and as far as he knew garbage bags were in style, but she was always immaculately put together.

"You haven't heard her sing yet."

"What?" Sam's focus was brought back to the living room, away from his thoughts and the blurry image of Rachel in his head.

Puck's smirk had returned to his face. "You haven't heard Rachel sing yet. Heh. Dead man walking, Finny."

"Shut up, Puck."

* * *

><p>He wasn't a hundred percent on how he managed to get lost going to the bathroom. Yet, somehow, Sam had been wandering the halls for the better part of twenty minutes.<p>

There was a bathroom directly down the hall from his fourth period class. He had every intention of popping in and then getting to class so he could take a nap. This had been the plan until he had figured out that the bathroom he had always passed by was actually the girl's bathroom.

So, it took about ten minutes to find another bathroom, the men's preferably. And then, well, he had just decided to wander the halls (he was just so bad with directions).

He wasn't sure where he was, definitely a part of the school he had never been through. There was a darker quality to the halls he had been walking down. The lights were dimmer, the floors were cleaner, and there was a scent of roses and admiration.

He rolled his neck, his book bag hanging haphazardly on his shoulder. Green eyes had been casted to the ground. There was a bright light coming from the wall, bleeding onto the ground.

Wait, a bright light was coming from the wall?

Stopping, he looked up and noticed that the wall had a glossy appearance. He could faintly hear music in the background, but his focus was on the glassy surface. Taking a few steps, his eyes widened as they danced across the case that was, literally, taking up the majority of the hall.

Trophies, ribbons, certificates, pictures, music sheets, (_was that a guitar?_) were arranged neatly in the case. Everything was shiny, as if someone snuck in at night and polished every surface in the glass case.

Sam gently moved along the wall, trying to get a look at everything. There were dates under each article/artifact. The oldest he could see was December 15, 1974. There was _no_ way that McKinley was being supported by the Glee Club for the last, like forty years. _No_ way.

Leaning back on his heels, he noticed a picture from three years ago. It was of Rachel and Jesse, with a bunch of people in the blurred background. Rachel was holding a trophy; her eyes closed tightly, a smile the size of the moon on her face. Jesse had his arms wrapped around her, his face wasn't in focus; he had been kissing the top of her head, oblivious to the picture being taken. They looked happy. Definitely not the same couple he had saw on his first day of school.

His mind started to drift, allowing the music that had been in the background to take on more of a presence. Where music was coming from, he didn't have a clue. Maybe it was just the music in his head. Even though the pop type genre of the music was definitely not something he, _personally_, listened too.

He turned around, coming face to face with two sets of wide double doors. Over them, in a dull silver color, was large capital, metal letters: AUDITORIUM. There was a more defining musical presence.

_Oh._

Taking a step forward, he gently pushed one of the doors open and popped his head in. The back of the auditorium was dark, but as you walked towards the stage, the lights went from dark, to dim, ending in the stage being lit up like Rockefeller Center.

"_Baby if I tie you up, it don't mean I'll tie you down. I just like it to play it rough, baby. If you wanna bring a friend, he's more than welcome to join in. We'll have triple times of fun, yeah this night has just begun._" The girl on stage was stunning. Her skin was glistening off the reflection of the bright lights shining on her. She was smirking, wickedly almost. Her eyes were dead set on the first row of the auditorium, as she seductively dance with, up against, and around a single chair. "_Let's play. I'll let you wrestle me, you can win all day. I'll show you what it means to fool around! You'll see how much you want it now. Just come out and play._"

Sam had slipped in, leaning into the back wall, blending into the darkness. He crossed his arms, his eyes trained on the siren parading around the stage.

"Dear god Santana!" A familiar voice lashed across the front of the auditorium, causing the music to die without so much of a fade out.

The siren on stage went from sexy to catty in a second, her hip popping out and her arms crossing like snakes.

"What?" Her tone was bitch, with a capital 'B', a complete one-eighty from the flirty/playful tune of her song.

"You're such a slut." Sam knew that voice. It wasn't _just_ familiar, it was a known voice.

"Kurt! Don't call Santana a slut!" He knew that voice too!

"She's being a slut!" Kurt argued, standing up and marching up the stairs to the stage.

Santana rolled her eyes and dropped her arms. "What's wrong Elton? If you were straight you would be _all_ up on _this_."

"HA!" Kurt shook his head.

Sam watched as Mercedes and Rachel both stood up from their seats, making their way up the stage as well. Mercedes was somewhat laughing, while Rachel looked horrified.

"You're just jealous because I actually have a leading role at the pep rally today." Santana made a face, before bouncing down into the chair that she had just been straddling.

"Oh, yes, it should be so wonderful." Kurt threw his arms up. "_I going to tell you how I feel. How I couldn't breathe when you're not with me_." His tone was pitchy and high. Mercedes started out right laughing.

"I do NOT SOUND LIKE THAT!" Santana screeched. Sam could just see the claws coming out.

Mercedes was right. This was prime time television.

"I think Kurt just meant that your song, which you sang _perfectly_, is just slightly suggestive." Rachel reasoned, jumping in between Kurt and Santana.

Sam's eyes instantly began dancing around the brunette. She was wearing a white skirt that dusted her knees. A navy blue tank top hugged her body, complimenting her navy ballet flats. Her hair was down and curly, spilling over her shoulders.

Santana was a siren and totally hot, but Rachel was a shooting star.

"Don't defend him." Santana snapped.

"I'm not!" Rachel stated. Her tone had turned very sharp, very in command. It'd be a lie to say that Sam (and the other three in the room) didn't instantly straighten their backs, eyes on the petite brunette. "I said you did a fantastic job. The song is awesome, I love it, I listen to it in the car. We can't perform it. End of story."

He thought Santana would argue. He had a feeling. Not that he knew the girl. He didn't have any classes with her and definitely couldn't recall seeing her in the halls. And even though he was oblivious most of the time, he had a feeling that, much like Mercedes and Rachel, Santana's presence made the world turn the other way for a moment.

It was the way she had stood up to Kurt. And in the way she held herself. He really thought there would be an argument.

"Fine." Santana bit out, her tone dramatically flat.

Rachel sighed. "Are we ready for the pep rally?"

"Yep. Costumes waiting in the dance room. The stage was set up in the gym last period. Artie has the AV club recording the performance, so they'll be setting up around two forty five." Mercedes was verbally checking off everything. "We're good to go."

"The music is already for 'Your love is a drug' and Jesse assured me his music was all set." Kurt concluded. He flicked his bangs. "Did he tell you what he was singing?"

Rachel shook her head. "It's a surprise. Or, rather a present to me. Probably to make up for Catherine."

"I thought it was Caroline." Santana voiced. She had walked over to the stereo system that was just barely visible behind the curtain.

Rachel waved her hand, suggesting that it was something of that nature. Sam shifted, moving to sit in one of the theatre chairs. He seriously had wanted that nap. A part of him knew he should have left, he should have tried to find his classroom. But something was just drawing him to the stage.

"Why don't you break up with him?" Kurt asked. Sam watched as the boy's head turned, staring directly at Sam. There was no way he could have seen him. It was pitch black. Sam could barely see his own hands.

"There's no point." Rachel shrugged. "It's not like anyone is going to want to date me. Jesse would squash that instantly. He's such a control freak."

"That's healthy." Santana stated. "What about that new kid? The one that called Jesse a douchbag. Obviously he's on the ball."

Holy shit. Were they actually talking about him? He wasn't important enough to be mention in their social circle. Holy _shit_.

"He is cute, Rach." Mercedes piped in, nudging Rachel.

_Please let her say something good. Please let her say something good._

"Who's cute?" _Seriously?_

Jesse St. James had opened the side door and walked in at the precise moment of Mercedes' teasing. And why wouldn't he? That was simply Sam's luck.

"No one." Rachel answered before anyone could say anything. "We were talking about the new guy Lillianna is seeing, at Columbia."

Jesse rolled his eyes, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Rachel's lips. "He's a real tool bag in my opinion." _You would know._

Sam knew he should leave. He knew it. Something was holding him down though.

"You don't even know him." Rachel mused, smiling.

"I know enough. I came to see what all the hoopla was." He gestured to the stage. Santana rolled her eyes, turning and beginning to fuss with the stereo, Kurt raised an eyebrow, judgment splattered across his face, and Mercedes had taken an interest with her fingernails.

"No hoopla, just a little practice before the pep rally." Rachel's smile seemed to dim.

"Wait until the second song. You're going to fall in love." Jesse gave her a bright smile, leaning down once again, this time being slightly more aggressive in his technique. Sam felt the jealousy rolling over his body. "Kurt, I think you'll appreciate part of my surprise as well."

Kurt's eyebrow raised, if possible, higher into his forehead. "Oh, will I?"

"I think you will." Jesse gave him a cocky smile. "If you three do not mind, I'm going to walk my little princess to class. See you later." Without so much as a second thought to Rachel, Jesse took her hand, leading her to the side door.

Santana stopped fussing, turning to watch the two disappear. "He is a douchbag."

"And we have company." Kurt stated, once again staring into the darkness. "If that's you Puckerman, I swear to god, I'm having Shane sit on you!"

"HEY!" Mercedes turned on Kurt with a nasty look on her face.

"Well! It's more threatening than any of us doing a damn thing!" Sam was waiting for Kurt to stomp his foot.

"Puckerman, get out here. Jesus Christ." Santana shook her head. "You need to start sleeping in the nurse's office again!"

"It's not Puck." Sam stated, standing up and moving a few rows down, just until he stood more so in the light. "I'm sorry, I got lost trying to find a bathroom and stumbled upon the trophy case outside, and then there was music. I'm easily distracted."

Mercedes gave him a smile. "Sam Evans, Santana Lopez. Santana, new kid who called Jesse a douchbag."

Santana gave him a large smile. "I think I just made a new friend." Sam smiled back at her. "I shall name you Trouty mouth." The smile instantly fell from his face. "Damn boy. That is a set of lips!"

* * *

><p>Quinn, Puck, Finn, and Sam sat on the bleachers, waiting for the pep rally to begin. Quinn and Puck were having a silent conversation with each other. Finn was leaning back, his eyes casted to the ceiling. And Sam, well, he was actually kind of excited.<p>

Not excited that it was his first McKinley Pep Rally. Montero threw huge pep rallies, generally outside and on actual game days. Montero could kick McKinley's ass, Pep rally style. However, Montero did not have one Rachel Berry.

"Thank you boys and girls." Mr. Figgins had taken the stage. The gymnasium lights had dimmed and the entire student body had settled down. "In honor of our first week of school, our first football game, and the fact that no one was suspended today," Sam tilted his head, because, wow, just wow. "I would like to present, New Directions to kick off an expected excellent school year!"

Sam jumped by the amount of clapping, cat calling, and screaming that followed Figgins' speech.

"What the hell?" He practically shouted. Finn laughed.

"Wait for it."

The lights flickered slightly, before two bright lights spilled across the stage that had been placed against the back wall of the gym. The curtains were thin and white, showing shadows of the bodies behind them. Techno pop began pouring from the speakers that laid dull to the bright stage.

Sam's eyes widened as Santana slipped from the curtain. She was wearing a little black dress that hugged every curve on her body. She stepped onto the stage like she was on a cat walk, her face flirty and seductive. Whistles were sounding from every single direction, just to explode as she gave the student body a wink, her body moving to the music.

"_I like it, I want it, the way you make my body move. I think I'm addicted, I'm high off everything you do. I'm going to call you baby, don't you worry 'bout a thing, 'cos you're all I need. I'll become a slave to my habit. Feigning for your love, gotta happen now_."

Santana winked again as another voice began to sing.

Sam's heart began beating faster.

He watched as Rachel stepped from behind the curtain, her hand moving over Santana's shoulder. She was wearing a lacy black halter top and a black skirt that touched the floor, opening to expose her legs as she walked to center stage. Her voice took over the gym.

"_You're all I need! Your love's drug, can't get enough. Your love's a drug. And I can't sleep. Can't get enough. Your love's a drug, your love's a drug, your love's a drug_."

Santana took over once again. Sam's eyes were locked on Rachel, who had started to dance, what looked like a tango or something, with Mike. Brittany and another guy had come out on stage as well, both couples dancing on either side of Ms. Lopez.

"_I hate it, that feeling rushing through my veins again whenever you're leaving. I feel withdrawal kicking in. I'm going to tell you how I feel. How I couldn't breathe, when you're not with me. I'll become a slave to my habit feigning for your love. Gotta happen now_."

Mike spun Rachel, who did some kind of ballerina/ninja thing, her arms floating in the air, coming down behind her head as she took center stage again, Santana safely in Mike's arms.

"_'Cos I miss you when you're gone. So right, what feels so wrong, that I need to have you all the time! You're all I need! Your love's drug, can't get enough. Your love's a drug. And I can't sleep. Can't get enough. Your love's a drug, your love's a drug, your love's a drug_."

The music faded, causing the entire gym to jump up. Clapping bellowed and echoed against the walls.

Sam had been dragged up by Finn, his jaw on the floor, his eyes on Rachel as she held the note with the fading music.

"DEAD MAN WALKING!" Puck was screaming in his ear.

Sam paid him no attention, his heart beating at an insane speed against his ribs. He followed Rachel as she blew a kiss to the crowd, dancing back behind the curtain, leaving the stage empty again.

It took a few minutes, but once the crowd had settled, music once again began to blast through the speakers.

"_Better with you, better with you, yeah..._" A male's voice began singing. Sam looked over to see Finn looking slightly confused.

"Who's singing?" Quinn asked, just as confused as Finn and Puck.

"_I try to write this down, the words just don't come out. It's hard to say how you feel, been down the longest road. Said yes when I meant no. I lost control of the wheel_." Jesse walked out on the stage, his voice filling the auditorium, much in the same manner that Rachel's voice had. The guy might have been a douchbag, but he could sing.

This realization alone, caused Sam to start plotting a plan to move back to Declan and live in Tripper's attic.

Before Jesse had even finished his part, another boy walked onto the stage. He was the same height as Jesse, but held more of a pleasant charisma in his stance. He was wearing all black, just as the other members of New Directions had.

It would be best to note that Puck and Quinn (and, ok, the rest of the student body) were staring at this kid with confusion and apprehension. Finn, however, was giving the guy a heated look.

But then, he opened his mouth, and a round of whistles and cat calls began to mix in with the pop tune from the speakers.

"_Cause you know that things get so bad. You've got my back, make me wanna sing, and girl I'm singing about you_!"

Jesse gave the guy a smile, moving to the front of the stage, his arms widening before him. "_No sweeter sound than what I've found. No perfect love could be more perfect than ours_."

And together they began to sing, causing the student body (even Quinn) to stand up, sway, clap, and show general enthusiasm to the collaboration happening on the stage.

"_Baby it feels like, it feels like, the music sounds better with you baby! It feels right, it feels right. Everything's better with you_."

"_I used to think that love was something fools made up 'cause all I knew was heart break. Woah! I couldn't help myself, let this heart go through hell. There only so much a heart can take_."

Jesse was the one to finish the song. "_Baby it feels like, it feels like, the music sounds better with you baby! It feels right, it feels right. Everything's better with you_." Which elated a grand explosion of encores and cheers.

Sam was clapping, his mind and body in complete shock. Did all of this just happen? He felt like he was at a concert or a club. As if he was in the presence of _actual_ famous people.

His green eyes were moving around, finally being reeled in by the sharp eyes of one Quinn Fabray.

She had stopped clapping, but her hands were still in clap position. Her eyes were hooded, they suggested he pull himself together and fast.

She pursed her lips out.

"Welcome to McKinley High, Evans."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nothing, nada, zippo. Songs would be Barbara Streisand, Paramore, and Emeli Sanda; The Great Gatsby is Scott Fitzgerald.

Author's Note: Just a little quickie. I must thank EVERYONE who review and read and favorite and everything. You guys make my WHOLE day!

This chapter is super cute in my opinion and I am SO excited to finish Chapter 6! Crossing fingers that I have it done by Thursday the latest. Where there will be TONS of Samchel, and lots of JSJ. And let's not forget some possible Klaine and Quick. :):)

Happy Readings! PS: Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!

PSS: I know absolutely NOTHING about football... so, yeah just go with me on whatever happiness I wrote.

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't get her out of his head. He had done some serious "investigating" through YouTube and Facebook to find videos of New Directions (Stacy: Oh, you're stalking her. Sam: It's called <em>investigating<em>. Stacy: Not according to the law, Sam.). He had listened to her belt out "Don't Rain on My Parade", "The Only Exception", and his personal favorite, "Next to Me".

He had wanted to turn it into an mp3 but Stacy had given him a holier than thou speech, which had prompted him to shut the laptop off and hop in his car towards the center of town.

In retrospect, turning Rachel's YouTube video into an mp3, not the best way to go about things. He was _not_ a creepy stalker. He was Montero's Golden boy, and soon to be the guy that turned McKinley's football failures, into football victories.

He was better than this. Or, well, he'd like to think he was better than this.

Honestly, he needed a slap upside the head.

He walked into the Lima Bean, hoping a nice hot chocolate (the weather was a little downcast, and it was already getting a bit chilly, even though it was still early in September) would give him a little more perspective, and possibly some resolve.

The line was short and before he had time to blink, he stood in the middle of the coffee shop with the nutty scent of chocolate swimming through his senses.

Before he could take a sweet sip, however, someone gesturing wildly caught his attention. He turned his head (as did a few other patrons) to the very corner of the shop where a dirty blonde haired boy sat, with a black haired boy across from him. Their once silent argument seemed to be heating up.

"I'm not dealing with this!" Kurt had stood up, causing Sam further delay in taking a sip from his cup. Green eyes watched as the blonde swirled around, stomping through the sea of giant chairs and mini tables that littered the coffee shop floor.

Still sitting in the corner, head down, body slumped, was the boy from the pep rally.

Sam looked at his cup, then out the window to see Kurt stomping across the street to his SUV, and then to the boy in the corner.

Green eyes rolled as his feet began moving to the back of the coffee shop.

"Hi." Sam stated, clearing his throat and standing above the boy.

"Hi?" The boy was looking at Sam, more curious than anything.

"Is Kurt ok?" Sam wasn't sure what had just happened, but if this kid was messing with his kicker (and one of Rachel's best friends) he was going to kick some ass.

"He's fine, I think." The boy shook his head. "He's being a little over dramatic, but I can't really blame him."

Sam might have only been at the school for two weeks, but he had witnessed a few of Kurt's dramatics in the locker room and on the field. He nodded his head and sighed.

"Sam Evans. I'm new to McKinley this year. You were good, at the pep rally on Friday."

The boy looked at him, giving him a grateful smile. "Blaine Anderson. I just transferred to McKinley."

"We can form a club. New kids anonymous." Blaine chuckled.

"Sounds like a plan to me." He leaned into his giant chair. "I didn't see you performing, so I assume you weren't recruited for the Glee club."

"Uh, no, my dad got a job transfer. I'm the new Quarterback."

"For McKinley?" There was a tone and an added 'but why?' in the charismatic boy's voice.

"Yeah, I know, the school isn't exactly known for football, but, I'm going to change that." Sam cleared his throat, finally having some of his hot chocolate.

"I love football, don't get me wrong. I went to Dalton Academy and even though our boys' choir is well known, we still have that staple for football."

Sam sat down on the chair across from Blaine. He felt very out of character as the giant chair seemed to swallow him up.

"Are you and Kurt _friends_?" He paused from trying to find a comfortable position in the chair. He looked over to see Blaine sizing him up, jealousy evident in his eyes.

"Uh, well, I guess we're friends, we have a class together and he is the kicker on the team. I'm friends with Finn and Puck, and them. So, I guess, by association." Sam shrugged, giving Blaine a hard look. "Are _you_ friends with Kurt?"

The atmosphere was slightly thick, dissolving as Blaine dropped his head, chuckling bitterly.

"I'm sorry. That was rather rude of me. Kurt and I have a bit of a history." He leaned back into the chair, shaking his head slightly, a smile on his face.

Sam looked at his cup.

"I thought if I transferred to McKinley, I would be able to convince Kurt that I never stopped loving him." Blaine popped his lips, causing Sam to look over at him. "I guess I was a little off in my estimations."

"Yeah, well." The blonde finished his hot chocolate in a long sip. "Happens to the best of us."

* * *

><p>Blaine and Sam were sitting outside during lunch on Wednesday. The two had formed a fast friendship (especially after agreeing that this football season was going to be fantastic). It was kind of nice having Blaine around. Sure, Puck, Mike, and Finn were great. Girls, video games, bullshit, it was right up Sam's alley. Blaine though brought something to Sam's life that his other friends couldn't.<p>

A shared feeling of unrequited love.

And a hard slap to the head when it came to studying.

"He's avoiding me. Yesterday at Glee I thought he was going to throw the microphone at my head." Blaine sighed. "I think if it wasn't for Rachel, I would have been pummeled by a bedazzled microphone."

"At least you would have gone down with some jazz hands." Sam laughed at his own little joke, only to sober up as Blaine shook his head.

"I told you, you're using that term incorrectly."

"Hello, hello." Santana walked up to the table, gently lowering herself to the bench. She placed her tray on the shiny surface, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Mercedes sat beside her, throwing a warm smile to both boys.

"And what do we owe for the pleasure of this social calling?" Blaine asked.

Sam shut his book. He was never going to finish this one assignment due on Friday.

"Business. You know how it is." Santana stated, delicately folding her arms in front of her.

"We wanted to see if you guys had heard about Jesse's party this Friday night, after the game." Mercedes lips were in a bright smile.

Blaine's eyes shifted to Sam, who shrugged.

He had heard some of the kids talking about a huge party this Friday, but he didn't catch who was throwing it and what kind of event it really was.

"Well, Jesse is throwing a huge party to kick off the school year." Santana's tongue danced along her lips. "You should come." Her eyes were on Sam.

"Um," he was kind of speechless. Sure, he had gone to a million parties and he had thrown a few no rules bashes, but he was weary. "Is everyone invited?"

"The whole school, yes." Mercedes nodded. "Your friends usually attend. I'm surprised they didn't say anything."

She wasn't the only surprised person at the table, honestly.

"Rachel will be there. And there will be liquor." Santana's lips were curling into a wicked sort of smile. She looked like a shark that was about to catch a seal. "A fun filled combination."

He looked at Santana for a hard moment, trying desperately to keep a poker face. Blaine and Mercedes were both staring at Santana, a bit of shock and eye-rolling swimming around their faces.

"I would assume Rachel would be there, it's her _boyfriend's_ party. The liquor is tempting, however." He felt his ears turning red.

"I'm sure the liquor is the only thing that's tempting." Santana shook her head. "Look, we just wanted to extend an invitation. You're new here, so you don't know this, but Jesse St. Jackass' parties are legendary. You'll never want to go back to that bumpkin school of yours after Friday night, Trouty Mouth."

"Santana! That's rude!" Blaine scolded. The Latino rolled her eyes.

"I call 'em as I see 'em, Billy Joel."

* * *

><p>Sam was staring into his locker, completely lost in his own thoughts.<p>

"Dude, can you please change. I have to pick up Leah, and I will kill her if she gives me shit for being late." Puck was looking at him as if he was moron.

"Why didn't you tell me about Jesse's party?" He seriously sounded like a twelve year old girl. Oh, crap, he was sounding like Stacy.

"We were going to just drag you to it after the game. That way it would be a celebration for us." Puck shrugged. "Or a way to ease the embarrassment of starting off the season with a lost. Either way it involved liquor and girls."

"Do you ever think about anything besides liquor and girls?" Sam asked. Mike, who was on the other side of Puck, snorted and shook his head.

"I'm with Puck; Jesse's parties are a nice net after our normal loses." Finn voiced from the other side of the lockers. "Maybe you and Quinn will get back together."

Sam looked at Puck. The bad ass teen shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together.

"She said that the ship had long ago sailed. I don't know why she insists that she's over me. I mean, come on now."

"You and Quinn?" Sam was almost done changing.

"Sophomore year, man. We were golden, life was good. Fucking Santana." Puck threw his uniform into the locker. Mike stood up, clapping a hand on Puck's shoulder.

"What did Santana do?" Sam's interest was perked. He could tell the girl was a trouble maker, but it was a simple assumption.

"She spread it around school that I had slept with her." Puck shut his locker. "Which, I had, freshman year. Sophomore year was not Santana's high point."

"What—" Mike was shaking his head behind Puck, who was no longer acknowledging anyone. "I'm done. Let's get going." Sam stated, grabbing his book bag.

Puck turned sharply, heading out of the locker room. Mike and Finn watched him leave, turning back to their own lockers when the door shut behind him. Sam stood still, before heading after Puck, mumbling loud enough to Mike and Finn.

"This school is a real soap opera, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>Sam sat in the library fourth period on Friday. He only had this period and lunch to finish the last three questions on <em>The Great Gatsby<em> assignment for English.

Short of burning the assignment, he was tempted to start making doodles as answers.

"Making a habit of skipping classes?" The voice was musical and sweet. Sam snapped his head, inwardly wincing as a sharp pain traveled his neck.

Rachel stood over his table, smiling at him. She was wearing a white dress with black pin-stripes, and a cropped black suit jacket. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, a white flower pinned to the side. She looked older, sophisticated, as if she belonged in a totally different plane of existence.

"I, um, and," _Sweet baby Jesus, say hello, say hello!_ "Hey—lo." _…You moron._

Rachel giggled, sliding into the seat perpendicular to him at the round table. "Hey. What are you doing?"

"Our English assignment. I'm almost done." His eyes were focused on the note book in front of him. "I have a study period, so I figured I would study." He managed to look up and give her a small smile. The scent of roses began seeping into his nostrils. It took everything in him not to lean closer to her.

"I have a free period too." She seemed excited, moving her chair an inch or so closer to him. "I finished the assignment on Wednesday._ The Great Gatsby_ is a nice read."

"Yeah, nice." He decided not to go against his better judgment and tell her that he had spent Wednesday night slamming the book into his desk. This had led to him calling Dina to bitch that his life was unraveling and then Blaine to beg for the answers.

"I'm surprised we don't see more of each other, what with our lockers being so close." She leaned forward on the table, her eyes glazing over his notebook. "I guess it's just the way our schedules are."

She was, literally, inches from him. He was hoping a strand of hair would fall from her perfectly made up bun, so he would have an excuse to brush it behind her hair. The scent of roses was spreading through him.

"You were amazing on Friday!" _Really, Evans?_

Rachel looked up at him, making it so their faces were less than a foot from each other. Personal space was obviously not a problem in her world.

"Thank you." The smile on her face was 100 watts, easy. Her eyes, which had always been a milky chocolate from the distance between them, were now mixing with caramel, with specks of yellow stardust for good measure. They were cat like. Intricate.

_Dear God, man. Pull yourself together._

Sam cleared his throat, taking a second to breathe deeply.

"I feel it was a good pep rally. I would have preferred that we incorporated more of the members of Glee, though." She sat straighter, placing distance back between them. "Jesse had his own ideas. I think it's because it's our last year."

"It was really good." Sam nodded. "Not that I really know anything."

"Well, you're going to be performing yourself tonight." Her hand reached out, molding over his. "I'm very excited to see what the new Quarterback has done with McKinley's football team."

"You're going to be there?" A part of him was doing flips and cartwheels. He really thought he had built her up in his head; her voice, her smile, _her_. But being this close, talking to her like they were friends (maybe from another life time), he was even more head over heels.

Another part was trying to keep him cool. She had a boyfriend and just because he felt all the love songs were about them, didn't mean she did.

_Quickly, use your mind reading powers!_

It was becoming more obvious to him, the longer he was in Ohio, why Dina had told him to refrain from showing his true dorky side to people. He was a bit of a mess.

"Of course. My dads never miss a game and Kurt's the kicker. And, I mean," Sam watched as a quiet resignation settled over her face. It passed almost too quickly for words or proper analysis, but it had been there. "It's in poor taste not to support you guys."

"You're going to be with Jesse?" He was proud for saying the boy's name without adding a curse or spitting it out.

"Jesse doesn't watch football or basketball. He's a baseball and tennis kind of sportsman." She smiled. "He's a bit of a mess when comes to sporting events."

"I can't say anything." Sam smiled back at her. "I'm sure I'd be a mess at one of those fancy Broadway shows."

Hearing her laugh made him want to jump up and start flying.

"I'm sure you would pull off acting like you belong at one of those fancy Broadway shows." She folded her arms on the table, her laughter dying in her throat. "You're funny."

"I don't mean to be." His hand reached to scratch the bag of his head. "Thank you, though."

"I think you're funny, meaning to or not." Her eyes darted to the table, her tongue gently wet her lips. "I think you're going to do wonderfully tonight. I think you're going to win this for us. For them."

A silence settled between them. It was as if she was casting a spell on him; brushing some of her talent over his head. She said they would win, and he knew in that moment that they would, because she had said it to be.

It was a terrifying magic, but he was too drawn in to not believe in it; in her.

He shook his head, not wanting to waste a moment in her presence in silence (even if it settled so comfortably between them; as if they were a habit).

"So, I heard about the big party tonight, after the game." He wanted to reach out and lift her chin, give their eyes a chance to melt together.

"Jesse is driving us crazy." She shook her head, lifting her eyes so that she could look at him properly. "I wonder about him sometimes."

"The guys said it's going to be a blast. Quinn was all a twitter about it at lunch yesterday." Sam made a face, somewhat mocking Quinn's excitement about a new dress she had bought. Rachel laughed.

"You're going to see a whole lot of sides to everyone tonight. Liquor does some interesting things to people."

"You might get to see a different side of me." He smirked.

The smile she gave him was softer, flirtatious. "I guess I'll have to get to know this side a little bit better then, before getting to know the different side tonight."

Oh, yeah. He was making sure they won tonight's game; even if he had to play the whole thing himself.

* * *

><p>"TWENTY TWO!" Sam shouted to Puck who was running down the field. They were currently tied with Wimbleton Prep School. There was only a minute and a half left and he could tell that the other school had a slightly upper hand.<p>

Puck was tackled hard to the ground by a monstrously big player. Sam cursed in his helmet, running over to Puck.

"Are you ok?" Mike was asking, helping Puck up. Upon hearing a defiant 'yeah, yeah', Sam's eyes wandered over the field. Karofsky and Azimio had been doing a great job with defending their team mates. Finn and Mike had both gotten the ball back into McKinley's possession. And Kurt was a true V.I.P. because it was his kick that tied the game up.

They were so close to the touch down. Sam stared over the field, a plan quickly manifesting in his mind.

"Sam, you ready!" Mike screamed.

Sam nodded. "Get me the ball. I'm throwing it to you, get it back to me!"

"You sure?" Finn called, getting into position. Wimbleton had been on Sam like white on rice.

"I'm sure!"

Sam called the play, backing up as everything slowed down. He threw the ball, his eyes on Mike who was running around the chaos of the players.

Mike caught the ball, jumping up and then twisting back to the field. He turned, running towards the goal posts, his eyes looking for Sam.

The blonde was jumping and dodging player after player. He could hear the stands screaming and shouting, but it was white noise as he tried to race past the timer. He finally gained on Mike, pushing himself to a limit as he ran and twisted. Mike had thrown the ball and it flew through the air.

Sam jumped up, aware that one of the Wimbleton players was a foot or so from him. He felt the ball hit his stomach and, with what could only be considered magic at that moment, he flew through the air, landing on the grassy end zone.

They had scored the last remaining points. They had won.

McKinley had _won_!

Sam jumped up, throwing his helmet off as his team mates ran towards him, smiles and excitement pumping their blood. Kurt was skipping and prancing, dancing to the sounds of the crowd.

He looked over to the stands, smiling to his mom and dad. His eyes moved up, landing on her, just three rows up from his parents.

He saw his shooting star.

She was in between Blaine and Mercedes. She had changed into a pair of black jeans and a red jacket, her ponytail bouncing with her as she smiled and clapped.

Maybe she was clapping for him and him alone.

He swore he caught her eye and her smile looked ready to burst off of her face.

Oh, yes, tonight was his night.

And this party was going to be his stepping stone to entering the social royal court of McKinley High School.


End file.
